Sorry I'm taking so long to update. School has not been easy. Anyhow, thanks to anyone who read my story and a special thank you to Angel-of-Vampires, gudbooks, and Reader-Writer who all reviewed. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 3:

The Name Game

The Sorting Hat was really upset. He had just gotten a twenty-pound letter today containing all his mail for the past century. This happened all the time with the new mail system. Who needed a post office? He would send out mail and receive it back because nobody believed in talking hats, and the people who did never got their letters to him before they died. If only he could find a way to ensure that all his mail went to him…

Lord Godric always obtained his letters as long as the sender or carrier was not eaten. Mail had been so unreliable in those days. If people would take him seriously then his devoted fans would be able to reach him. What was so different between people and him?

He got it! People had names! Of course he had a "name" but it was not like people who insisted on calling themselves "Philip" or "Janice" or "Alfonzo" or even "Gertrude." Otherwise they would all be "The Person with the Big Nose" or even "The Person Whose Mouth Will Not Stop Flapping." All the Sorting Hat had to do was get himself one of those names. How could he find a name?

The Sorting Hat looked to the portrait beside him. "Headmaster Avencroft," he whispered in his most polite voice, "are you awake?"

Bolting up in his seat, the man bellowed, "GOBLINS! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE! Do something about it you stupid hat! Can't you see them?" The Sorting Hat looked around and all he could see were the angry faces of all the other portraits.

"It's just the other portraits, sir," he responded trying not to sound annoyed. "I was wondering whether I could ask you something." Rupert Avencroft looked happy that someone was finally asking for his advice for certainly nobody did while he was living. But then he furrowed his eyebrows.

"You better not be asking me to blow you off that shelf again. I would have thought you had learned your lesson by now," Rupert angrily chastised. The Sorting Hat decided to play innocent.

"Of course not, Headmaster. I was simply wondering whether you could do me a small favor. I am in need of a name so that people can get their letters to me. You happen to have one that you are not using right now, so I was wondering whether I could borrow it perhaps," the Sorting Hat asked.

Unfortunately, Rupert Avencroft looked offended. "I still use my name," he spat turning purple in the face. "I use it all the time. How would you like it if someone stole your name after you died? Oh, I forgot. You're a hat and hats do not die. Well for your information you stuck up pig-snouted Griffin, I don't care if you belonged to Godric Gryffindor at one time or another; but you can never ever have my name as long as I am Rupert Socrates Avencroft, so there!"

The last bit hurt a lot. Sure, he and Lord Godric had not gotten along very well at times, but that man was his hero. Rupert Avencroft had picked open a swollen wound. "Better shake this off," the Sorting Hat thought, "otherwise I'll never get anything done." He decided that he would ask some of the other paintings.

"Attention paintings of Hogwarts. I am in search of a name to use. If any of you would be kind enough to lend me one I would greatly appreciate it."

The portraits all grumbled and went back to sleep. How did the Headmasters ever get information out of these paintings the Sorting Hat did not know. It looked as if he was out of luck for a name. His heart fell as he thought of the fact that he would have to live the rest of his life looking forward to the next century.

Then a set of footsteps outside the door lifted his spirits as a maniacal plan came to his mind…

OoO

Albus Dumbledore was worried. This was strange for he was often a rather light-hearted person that everyone enjoyed being with. When he was down about something, everyone could feel the chill of his mood. Today was one of those days.

All of the students sat quietly in the Gryffindor common room studying or reading catching quick glances up at Albus as he sat musing in the corner. His friend, sixteen-year-old Elphias Dodge, finally felt it was time to find out what was bothering Albus. He walked over and sat down next to Albus catching a menacing glare from Albus's fifteen-year-old brother Aberforth.

"Albus," said Elphias as quietly as possible, "What is bothering you so much?"

Albus looked up and attempted to smile at his friend. "It is nothing, quite frankly. However, since you asked I might as well tell," he responded. Everyone in the common room lifted their eyes up and listened to Albus speak. "Have you noticed anything odd lately, Elphias?"

"Nothing of the sort. I mean, you've been rather silent today…" Elphias stammered knowing he was on the spotlight.

"No, not about me," Albus laughed, his eyes twinkling. "I was saying that something is out of place." Nobody pretended not to be listening anymore, including Aberforth, which was quite a feat. "The Headmaster has been missing for several days and none of the professors seem to know anything about it."

"That is really not abnormal at all, Albus," Aberforth sneered. "Practically every other day we are replacing the Headmaster."

Albus looked disapprovingly at his brother. "There is something else," Albus stated, "I have heard some strange noises recently and I think they might have something to do with the Headmaster's disappearance."

Elphias gasped, "Do you think it might be a Sphinx or a dragon or a manticore or maybe," he shivered, "a basilisk?"

Everyone in the room looked terrified except for Aberforth who appeared to be just plain annoyed. "Manticores and basilisks are not real. Nobody has ever really seen one," he groused.

Elphias had a hurt look on his face. "Nobody has ever lived if they have seen one," Elphias retorted turning red in the face. "Why can't you believe anything, Aberforth?"

Albus intervened before Aberforth could send another nasty comment back. "Aberforth, that's enough. Elphias, I do not think that we need to be that worried yet, for surely if it were a dark creature it would have attacked by now. I believe that we should visit the Headmaster's office, though." All of the other students had excited looks on their faces. Whenever Albus and Elphias went off on some sort of adventure the end results were always humorous, to them at least.

"Alright, Albus. But we had better not get in trouble again," Elphias sighed as he stood up to leave.

OoO

Albus and Elphias walked through the dark halls of Hogwarts. There were stains all over the walls and the torches had all mysteriously disappeared. They felt their way along the wall, as they got closer to the seventh floor. Elphias had just found the gargoyle by tripping over it when they heard someone behind them. Albus, who had been reluctant to use any wand light before this moment incase if someone tried to follow them, turned around on the spot and whipped his wand out. He lit it and found himself face to face with Aberforth.

"Aberforth, why are you here," moaned Albus.

Aberforth, looking grumpy as ever, replied, "I'm not letting you two have all of the wand light this time. Anyone can be just as great as you two." Elphias looked plain annoyed, but Albus decided to ignore his brother.

"We'll need a password," contemplated Albus out loud.

"Of course we will," scoffed Aberforth, "I mean, this is only the Headmaster's office." Elphias glared at Aberforth as he mocked his friend and Albus placed a hand on Elphias's shoulder to keep him from strangling Aberforth.

"Well," huffed Elphias, "What would it be? Wendolyn the Weird? The Battle of London Bridge?" They continued guessing for nearly fifteen minutes until out of nowhere, Albus said, "Waddawassi." This caused the gargoyle to hop aside letting the three boys enter the staircase.

"Where did you get Waddawassi from, Albus?" asked an intrigued Elphias.

"Someone had written 'Don't say Waddawassi' faintly on the wall behind the gargoyle upside down," chuckled an amused Albus. As they crept up the staircase they heard muffled talking in the office. There was more than one person behind the door from the sound of it. Elphias let out a muffled yelp as his foot sunk into one of the stairs. Aberforth knocked into something on the wall and it spilled a foul, thick smelly liquid all over him.

"Albus," he gasped, "Is this blood?" Albus put a finger up to his mouth to tell the others to be quiet. Someone was speaking loud enough to hear now.

"No…I think we should throw him out the window," cackled an unfamiliar voice. There was some shuffling inside and then someone began to plead.

"Please…no…don't do this…" wheezed the voice of an old man. The three boys looked at each other with looks of silent horror.

"We can't let you get away. You'll tell someone what we are doing," said a cranky lower voice. "And if you try to leave and tell them about…then we will destroy everything you hold dear."

"No! Do not hurt my family, workers, or the students. Or the paintings: their beauty is what holds the school together. It can even make a sock into something new and extraordinary. You can…have the…houselves. I'll give…it up."

The cackling voice spoke again, "I still think we are letting him off to easy…we should destroy everything and then you can have…too. And what about our deal?"

Albus had heard enough by now. He pulled out his wand and blasted the door down. The sight there shocked him.

In the middle of the room were all the torches in the school, unlit, in a pile under the Headmaster who was upside-down suspended in the air. He was blind folded and bound head to foot. Holding his wand was a strange little blue man in a strange pinstriped suit floating in midair. His eyes were wide with glee and he smiled with sharp white teeth. Of course, the master of this plan was sitting on the desk looking up at Albus: the one and only Sorting Hat.

"What are you doing?" sighed Albus as Aberforth tried to take the wand from the blue man. "Aberforth don't bother him he's a…" the man waved the wand and Aberforth sprouted out in boils, "poltergeist."

"I needed a name," said the Sorting Hat indignantly, "and nobody would lend me one. I cannot receive mail when the post will not send it to me. So, I decided to steal one and I invited Peeves here to help. We had a deal that he could stay here if he helped. They closed his old school and he was ever so lonely. It was all going perfectly well until you came along."

"You cannot steal a name," said Elphias while disarming the poltergeist. "It has to be given to you."

"You could apply for a name change," suggested Albus while helping the Headmaster down. The man shook his head, but after being upside down for such a long time he fainted.

"It's really that simple?" questioned the Sorting Hat. The boys nodded in response. "Alright, let us get started."

They all sat down, and Albus pulled out a quill from the desk. Aberforth could not help noticing, grudgingly of course, that his brother somehow looked strangely at home in this chair behind the Headmasters desk. Not that it meant he was going to be Headmaster someday…

"Name," asked Albus. The Sorting Hat glowered silently at him. "Never mind. How about desired name?" The Sorting Hat then realized that he had never really thought a ton about what he actually wanted his name to be.

"Um…"

"How about Bartimus?" suggested Elphias.

"Or Harold?" proposed Albus.

"No…" the Sorting Hat trailed.

"Romulus?"

"Henry?"

"Quincy?"

"Nathaniel?"

"No," said the Sorting Hat. "They're nice names, but I want something more original. Something that reflects my characteristics."

"Cranky? Geezer?" suggested Aberforth rudely. The other two boys glared at him and then resumed listing names. Some things were better left unsaid.

"Abelard? Adler? Beroald?" Albus listed. Elphias looked at Albus as if he were talking in a foreign language, which only made Aberforth mad since he was still covered in stink sap.

"Um…how about Wolfgang or Clovis?" recommended Elphias racking his brain for the weirdest names he could think of.

Peeves began to cackle. "How about Phats? Or maybe you would like…DUNGBOMB! Hehehehehehehehehe!!!" With that he pulled out a dungbomb, threw it, and zoomed away to forever more cause chaos in the school. Aberforth was the only one hit.

"You could borrow one of Albus's names," he derided. "He already has too many."

"No thank you," he quickly said. Albus Dumbledore had names that could only belong to a person like him. He would be laughed at if he had a name like Wulfric.

"Or maybe something related since you two are so buddy-buddy. Like maybe Gewain or…Lancelot?" Aberforth had no idea what he had gotten himself into. He would regret even suggesting that last name within a few minutes.

"DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT NAME AGAIN…EVER YOU HEAR ME?!" the Sorting Hat roared, waking the portraits up. All three of the boys inched back in their seats, Elphias and Aberforth looking terrified, and Albus looking plain alarmed. The Headmaster woke up, banged his head on the desk, and fell back down. He was not having a good day. "IT IS A FOUL NAME THAT SHOULD NEVER BE USED ON THIS PLANET AGAIN!"

"I'm…sorry," stuttered Aberforth, quivering in his seat looking more like his age than anyone had seen him appear as in a long time. The Sorting Hat realized he had scared everyone and calmed down.

"Excuse me. I should not of erupted like that. None of you have any idea what I am talking about. Not that it matters anymore. It's lost history and what's done is done," the Sorting Hat sighed. The wizards did not care about all the history lost. Then again, it was they who destroyed it. He would never understand why they would demolish their roots. "Maybe something less…mythical." So the process went on for another hour and a half.

"Connor?"

"No."

"Roberto?"

"No."

"Constantine?"

"No."

"Lucius?"

"No, too girly."

"Severus?"

"Too slimy sounding."

"Moldywart?"

"No, no, NO! These names are just not right; they are meaningless to me. They are people names not names for a hat!" Then the Sorting Hat realized something. He was happy with the name he had. "Sorry to interrupt, but I now think that I will just keep my name." Aberforth groaned, stood up, and stomped out of the room. Elphias rolled his eyes and plopped down into one of the wooden chairs in exhaustion. Albus just smiled.

"I had a feeling that you would be happier with your own name. Somehow it just fits you. Now about your letter problem: I think I have found a solution. Ask the Headmaster to stamp the Hogwart's seal on the back. The Ministry and the Muggle Post will take your letters more seriously then." The Sorting Hat thought about it and scolded himself for being outsmarted once again by Albus Dumbledore.

"Alright," he said trying not to sound too happy that somebody had solved his problems for him.

"Um, Mr. Sorting Hat?" asked Elphias curiously. "Before we go I have one question to ask you."

"Well then, go on," the Sorting Hat impatiently declared.

"If you are a hat, how do you write letters?" Elphias Dodge always got on the Sorting Hat's bad side, probably for questioning the Sorting Hat's (and the author's) sanity. He could quickly tell that now would be a good time to leave. "I will just be going now." Elphias jumped out of the chair and dragged Albus out of the office with him.

"SHUT UP!!!!!" the Sorting Hat bellowed. The Headmaster sat up, hit his head on the bookcase, and fell back down once more. He was sent to St. Mungo's the next day and never returned from there. And thus, the only thing accomplished by this day was that Peeves joined the ghosts at Hogwarts, which most of the staff would say that it did not accomplish anything at all, whatsoever.

And now I hope that you will all review by pressing that magical little button on the bottom left corner. Honestly, you could just leave a review saying "Hi, my dog ate my shoes this morning" or "My brother keeps on foaming at the mouth and he drinks all the tomato juice in my house everyday. What should I do?" I will answer these questions (if possible), but I would hope you would leave something more constructive. Thanks for reading.